


It'll Be Worth It

by LazySundayMusings



Category: Peter Kay's Car Share (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazySundayMusings/pseuds/LazySundayMusings
Summary: There’s one week to go before John joins Jim and the session musicians on stage at the classic-rock gig.Continues two days after the events of “Countdown”.
Relationships: Kayleigh Kitson/John Redmond
Kudos: 2





	It'll Be Worth It

Sunday 19 January, two twenty-five pm, “Plugs Out” studio

It was near the end of Kevin’s stint in the security room. He’d had very little to do once the bulk of the invitees had arrived half an hour earlier so had treated himself to some extra lunch and some YouTube-time while he waited for the stragglers to arrive.  
Movement on the main security screen caught his attention. Two women walking up to the front door. The first was tall - very tall - and blonde, and stunning, frankly. And... strangely familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place her. She slowed to fall back behind the second woman who was shorter, dark-skinned and - was that just her jacket, or...?  
The security cameras were located high and to the right, sited to give wide-angle and undistorted views of the space in front of the main door. The image on the security screen was currently that of the shorter woman in profile. And WHAT a profile.  
“God, she’s got big-”  
The intercom buzzed.

Kevin took a few seconds to enjoy the view before he pressed the ACTIVE button. “Hello. Can I help you?”  
“Hi. We’re both here for the band practice in Studio C. Name’s Hilton.”  
“Right. Can I ask who invited you today?”  
“John Redmond.”  
Kevin scanned the names on the sheet in front of him. “Thank you. You’re on our list. Can you wait about thirty seconds, please?”  
He released the ACTIVE button, reached for the phone and dialed extension 313.  
“Studio C.”  
“Hi. Kevin here. Need an ID check on guests of John Redmond. Two women under Hilton.”  
“Right. I’ll send him through to you.”  
“Cheers.”

Kevin ended the call and continued to observe the two women in the monitor. Up close the taller of the pair was even more impressive than he’d initially thought. And so, so familiar. From TV, maybe?  
And the shorter one - wow. Definitely not the jacket. Definitely not. That was all her.  
He shook his head.  
How the hell could that Redmond guy know those two?

Outside, Francie’s gaze moved from Cath to the intercom speaker and back. “Why are we waiting?”  
“Name and face-checks. John told me it’s standard practice out of hours.”  
“Okay... but didn’t you give him a heads-up we were coming?”  
“Yeah. But he can’t just let us in ‘cos he doesn’t actually work here.”  
“Oh. Fair enough.”

A crackle from the speaker got their attention. “Hello again. Can you look up and to your right, please? At the camera.”  
There was a different, familiar voice. “Yeah, that’s them. Good afternoon, ladies.”  
Cath was smiling. “Hey you.”  
There was a loud CLUNK and the main door opened a crack. “Come through but stay by the door,” said John. “A young fella will be coming to get you.”  
“Who? Jim?”  
John chuckled. “No. Olly. He’ll be with you in a minute.”  
“Right, John.”

They stepped through into a short hallway. Francie started to unzip her jacket then changed her mind. “Is it me, or is it colder inside?”  
Cath sniffed. “It is cold in here. John told me they only heat the working areas on weekends. The studio will be warm, though.”  
The pair heard the distinctive sound of lift doors opening and a moment later a young boy rounded the corner - and stopped in his tracks, his gaze fixed on Francie.  
“Hello Olly,” said Cath.  
No response.  
“Oh, great,” thought Cath before giving her sister a nudge.  
“Hello,” said Francie.  
He didn’t respond; simply stood and looked at Francie, clearly caught up in how tall she was.  
Another nudge.  
“Are you taking us to the studio, Olly?”  
His eyes lit up and he started back down the hall, saying “It’s this way” over his shoulder.  
Cath watched him trot away, then turned to her sister and shook her head.  
“What?” asked Francie.  
“Come on.”  
“What?”

With Olly leading the way the trio were soon on level three, although he took them on an indirect route to the studio itself. The sisters loosened their jackets - “it is warmer in here” - as they cast their eyes around the large open area, noting that most of the various chairs and sofas were occupied but not seeing a familiar face in any of them.  
“Thanks, Olly,” said Cath.  
The boy smiled but his gaze was still fixed on Francie. Then his head jerked around and he headed over to what the women assumed was his family.  
“Typical,” Cath muttered.  
“What is?”  
“You’d barely been in the place thirty seconds before you’d got yourself an admirer, that’s what.”  
Francie shrugged. “Only because he’s too young to know what boobs are,” she muttered. “Otherwise he’d be all about you, lady.” Then her eyes narrowed and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Oh. Speaking of being all about your boobs...”  
“Hm?”  
Francie spoke more clearly. “Hi John.”

Cath frowned at Francie then turned and took two quick steps towards John before wrapping her arms tightly around him.  
He did the same, pressing his cheek against hers before relaxing his hold and looking up. “Hi Francie. Nice to see you. You’re looking well.”  
“Thanks, John. So are you. The new job must be agreeing with you.”  
“I’ve only been doing it since Wednesday.”  
“Bet you’re pleased to be out of the store, though.”  
“God, yes.”  
“It looks it.” Then she tilted her head to one side, paused and said something unexpected:  
“Cath - let him go. It’s my turn.”  
“What?” said Cath.  
“What?” John repeated.  
“Seriously,” said Francie, “we don’t have all day. Bring it here.”

John was then treated to the longest, most affectionate hug from Francie that he could ever recall, one that ended with her gently kissing his cheek.  
And while his first instinct was to say something clever like “Well, if I’d known you felt this way...” he decided to simply savour the moment before quietly clearing his throat. “Right. Well. Ah, let me show you where everything is.”  
“No need,” said Cath. “Francie’s new boyfriend gave us the grand tour. That’s where we’ve been.”  
“Hm?”  
Cath was grinning. “Young Olly took a shine to Francie, you see. Wanted to show his lady friend all around the floor, didn’t he?”  
Francie rolled her eyes - “Shut up, Cath” - but didn’t stop smiling.  
John smiled then looked mock-serious. “Oh. Well, you’d better watch that one.”  
“Why?”  
“Because up until five minutes ago he only had eyes for Charlie.”  
Francie looked confused. “Who’s Charlie?”  
“Our bass player.” He nodded towards the open studio doors. “She’s in there. Dark hair, blue top.”  
The sisters looked in to see a mini-gathering by the keyboards. But there was no mistaking Charlie who towered above the others in the huddle.  
Cath giggled. “That’s classic - you’ve become the other woman just by turning up.”  
John smiled as Francie poked her tongue at Cath. “But nothing’ll come of it,” he said. “He’s a good kid. Adam’s bringing him up right.”  
“Adam?”  
“Our drummer. I’ll introduce you to everyone in a minute. But first,” - he held his hand out - “let me put your drinks in the fridge real quick.”

Cath waited until John was out of earshot before turning to her sister. “Since when do you want to give John a hug? Especially one like that?”  
“Since ages.”  
Cath shook her head. “No you don’t. Well, only if he’s really upset about something, which he’s not. Or if you’re pissed, or well-off your tits. Which you’re not. So...”  
Her voice trailed off as she looked at Francie. Then a thought struck her. “Was that kid looking over here the whole time?”  
“He was,” Francie admitted.  
“Ah.”  
“But that wasn’t the only reason.”  
“Then why?”  
“You really don’t see it, do you?”  
“See what?”  
Francie was now looking past Cath. “We’ll talk later.”

“Right then,” said John when he returned, “time to say Hi to everyone.”  
Francie winked at Cath. “Can we meet Charlie first?”  
“Sure.”  
“Guess I should size her up if I’m having to compete with her for Olly’s attention. Right?”  
“Really?” asked John.  
Francie smiled. “No.”  
Cath nudged his arm. “Idiot.”

********************

The expressions on peoples’ faces during the introductions were basically what John had expected: near-disbelief that John was introducing Cath as his friend, then confusion as to how two completely different-looking women could be sisters, followed by several “where do I know you from?” looks directed at Francie.  
But the only one with the gumption to satisfy their curiosity was the fifteen-year-old daughter of one of the guests. Once Sarah had stifled her giggles at the way Olly was still clearly besotted with Francie, she put her Christmas present to good use and Google soon gave her a possible answer. She waited until Francie had settled into a chair opposite her mother before she approached them, tablet in hand.  
“Um, excuse me?”  
Francie looked up and smiled. “Hi. Sarah, right?”  
“Hi. Um,” - Sarah looked from Francie to her tablet and back again - “is this you?”  
Francie took a moment to look at the photos on the tablet then nodded. “Yep, that’s me. That was taken a little while ago, judging by my hair there, but, yeah. That’s me.”  
“But, these are from a magazine.”  
“That’s right. I’m a model.”  
“Really?” asked the mother.  
“Ahuh. Been doing it for years now.”  
There was a visible sense of relief in the mother’s face, having sensed an opening to ask the questions she’d been saving up. “See, I’d wondered - since you came in - you looked familiar but I couldn’t place you. I kept thinking I might have seen you on TV, maybe?”  
Francie shook her head. “Possibly, but I’ve not done much TV work for a while. I’m mostly catalogues now, with the occasional magazine layout. Usually clothes, jewellery or makeup, although I sometimes get to sit in a flash car or big boat. Those kinds of shoots are quite fun.”  
“Do you know any of the models we hear about? Like Kate Moss? People like that?”  
Francie shook her head. “She spends most of her time running her own agency now, I think. I’d love to meet Kate Moss. And Naomi Campbell. I think they’re great.”  
A voice from behind Francie spoke up. “Have you been to America to work?”  
She turned to see that she now had an audience. “I did some work over there when I first started, but didn’t like being away from home for months and months. But my agent was able to find me work here and around Europe. France, Greece, Spain - places like that. I still get to go to Spain and Italy for two weeks every year, just when it’s starting to get cooler here. That’s where I met my David,” she added, showing off her engagement ring.  
The questions continued to come. “Is it fun?”, “Who’s the most famous person you’ve met?”, “Do you get to go places in private jets?”, “What’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever gotten to wear?” - and more.

And then Sarah asked the question that was usually the most awkward to answer. “Could I be a model?”  
Francie made sure to catch the eye of Sarah’s mother before speaking. “Ah. See, it’s a bit tricky, that...”

********************

Cath had been present at plenty of these impromptu Q&A sessions over the years so didn’t hesitate to make her seat available to another invited guest before going in search of John. She found him in the studio with Jim, standing at one of the two double-keyboards. “Hey boys.”  
“Hey.”  
She nodded towards the bass Jim was carrying. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you with Squirt.”  
“This isn’t Squirt. This is one of the five-strings I bought when I started here. Gives me a few more options when I’m playing, although I’m mainly guitar, obviously.” He pointed towards the rack behind Cath.  
Cath looked at the rack then back at Jim. “A bass and five guitars, Jim? Seriously?”  
Jim shrugged. “Two of each plus the acoustic. Backups, right?”  
“In case a string breaks,” John added. “Or one goes out of tune. Or catches fire. Or-”  
“Shut up, man,” said Jim with a chuckle.  
“Okay,” said Cath. “Have you been in here all this time?”  
“Ah, not the whole time, no.”  
“Then...?”  
Jim grinned. “I heard something about clothes and makeup, thought “Nah” so decided to hide in here for a bit.”  
“Same,” said John as he also failed to keep a straight face.  
Cath shook her head. “You chicken bastards.”  
“Says you, hiding in here with us.”  
“I’m not hiding, I was... looking for you. To ask when we get to hear your set.”  
“After we eat. Which shouldn’t be too far off. But in the meantime it’s always good to have a bit more practice.”  
“How much do you do, then?”  
“We’ve all been coming in three times a week, plus these Sunday sessions. Plus I do more at home every night after work,” said Jim.  
“Same here. Well, mostly,” added John. “Jim’s doing the whole set while I’m only playing in a few near the end. But that’s okay. And it’s been good for me, having to lift my game to play with these guys.”  
Jim nodded. “You and me both.”  
“So if you’ve been doing all this practice anyway, why are you in here now?”  
Jim shrugged. “To hide, like I said. But because I’m playing bass for just one song, I’m not practicing it as much. And playing along to a tape isn’t the same as playing with someone else. J said he’d help me out, so here we are.”  
“But you’ve been playing for years. You both have. Why do you still practice so much?”  
“It’ll be worth it. It always is.”

“Right,” said Cath. “Well, don’t let me stop you. I’ll leave you to it.”  
“Wait,” said John. “Since you’re in here - wanna help?”  
“You know I can only play air guitar. Plus I don’t know what songs you’re doing.”  
John reached behind him and handed a tambourine to Cath. “You don’t need to. You set the beat and we’ll follow it.”  
“But-”  
“With that,” John continued, pointing to the device Jim was tapping. “It’s a metronome that you follow along with by watching the lights flash. It’s easy - just shake the tambourine as each green light comes on then hit it against your other hand for the red. Like this:  
Green, green, green, RED.  
Shake, shake, shake, HIT.  
Shake, shake, shake, HIT.  
Got it?”  
“Yep.”  
“Good. Keep your hands up so we can keep track of the beat. Have a quick play, then once you’ve started properly I’ll count Jim and I in, and then we’ll just play through.”

Cath didn’t take long before saying “I’m ready. Now?”  
“Now.”

Four minutes later John quietly said “...and stop...” to Cath before allowing the final few notes to fade away, leaving the trio standing and smiling at their combined efforts. At which point there was a smattering of applause, and when Cath turned it was to see the rest of the band, the sound technicians and every invited adult standing just a few feet away.  
Her shoulders sagged. “Oh God, I’m embarrassed now.”  
“Don’t be,” said Jim. “You did great.”  
“You really did,” added Helena. “Good rhythm, crisp hits - nicely done. Anyway. Enough showboating, you three. Food’s here.”

Jim put his bass on the stand and followed the group out, leaving Cath waiting while John returned the tambourine and metronome to Helena’s vast collection of instruments.  
“How long were they standing behind me, John?”  
“Pretty much the whole time. It’s almost unnatural for musicians to ignore what’s going on in a studio, especially when you leave the main doors open.”  
“I had no idea anyone was there. Why didn’t they say anything?”  
“Because it’s not the done-thing to interrupt unless you absolutely have to. The band were doing fingers-on-lips so that no one would do anything to distract us.  
And before you ask: yes. We could have played along to the metronome ourselves. But it’s easier if we can just watch you rather than both of us being heads-down looking at little flashing lights.  
And I really wanted you to have some fun today.”  
His smile matched hers.  
“Now come on. Let’s go eat.”

Francie watched as John followed Cath around the double-table, each taking some food for themselves while also sneaking items from each others’ plates. After a quick chat John headed over to where the sound engineers were seated while Cath made her way to where Francie was eating.  
And shaking her head. “You two are like bloody kids when you’re out together.”  
“We have fun, is what we do,” Cath replied. “So. Did you do your Public Information bit? Tell the kid that modelling isn’t all glamour and sitting around in the sun? That you don’t get to keep all the trinkets? That she should just stay in school?”  
“All that and more. I was being very responsible while you snuck off to find some boys to play with, you hussy.”

********************

Three-thirty pm, “Plugs Out” studio

All the chairs and sofas had been brought into the main studio while the remaining food was tidied up. The families and hangers-on made themselves comfortable while the band members had taken their positions and the sound engineers and technicians ran their final checks.  
Once John completed his own checks of the keyboards he joined Cath and Francie on one of the three-seaters.  
“So what are we going to see?” asked Francie.  
“It’s basically the full set as we’ll do it next Saturday, but turned way down because we’re not in the actual venue,” John explained. “On other Sundays we’ve basically just played the songs from start to finish, but today is a full rehearsal of the set as we’ll actually perform it. Which is why all the techs are in today, as they’re part of putting it all together on the night.”  
Francie was nodding. “So why are you sitting here, then?”  
“Because I don’t join in until about half-way through. On the night I’ll be waiting offstage until they give me the cue to go on, but today I’ll watch the first part with you.”  
“Okay. Sounds good.”  
The sisters lifted their beers to toast John and each other as Guy stepped up to the microphone.  
“Good afternoon, Studio C. We are “Plugs Out.” Do it, Adam.”

The sound of the kick drum had everyone clapping or stamping their feet.

Guy then turned to the guitarist to his left. “Show ‘em how it’s done, Mark...”

********************

Forty-five minutes later the not-really-an-encore came to an end and a grinning Guy said “Thank you Studio C,” as the band’s efforts were applauded by the invited guests. “We just need a few minutes to go over that, and then we’ll wrap up for the day, okay?” he added.

As the musicians and techs gathered in a huddle, Cath and Francie followed the other guests out of the studio into the open area where everyone helped themselves to the remaining food on the table. They’d both been on their feet for the full set, even though not all of the songs were to either of the sisters’ tastes, but that hadn’t stopped them from thoroughly enjoying themselves. And they weren’t the only ones.  
The excited chatter among the guests continued until they were joined by the band members, all of whom had emerged from the studio with serious or semi-serious expressions on their faces.

John and Jim made a beeline for the sisters. “So,” said John, “what did you think? I’m guessing “pretty good”, seeing as how you two had everyone up and dancing by the end.”  
“Loved it,” said Francie. “All of it.”  
“Same,” added Cath. “And you know me - some of it wasn’t my thing, but still had fun, though. How do you think it went?”  
Jim spoke first. “As rehearsals go, that was really good. Only a couple of flubs but otherwise everyone was on form. The techs spotted a couple of things that will have to be sorted, which we’ll work on at the venue-checkout this week.”  
John was nodding. “The only thing that wasn’t good was that things went a bit flat in the middle energy-wise because the song-order didn’t work. So we’ll rejig the set a bit to keep everything moving.”  
“But that’s what rehearsals are for,” said Jim. “To see what works and what doesn’t. Better now than on the night.”  
“True. But what’s in our favour is that we go on last next Saturday, by which time the crowd should be, well...”  
“Hammered?” offered Francie.  
“That, or well on their way. Especially since the venue management wants a short break between the bands so they can take more money across the bar.”

“So what are you going to do now? More practice?”  
John nodded. “Yes, but not today. We’re done. We’ll tidy up in there then pack up and go.”  
Jim jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’d best make a start.” He turned to the sisters. “Nice to see you both again. Glad you enjoyed it.”  
“And you, Jim. See you again some time.”  
“Bye Jim.”

As Jim went into the studio Francie stepped away, leaving John and Cath talking quietly.  
“You all right to get home, John? I didn’t see your car outside.”  
“Came in with Jim. He’ll drop me off.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yep. Once he’s packed up his gear I’ll help load the van.”

Francie was holding up her phone as she stepped back. “David can get here in about five minutes. Is it rude for us to leave so early?”  
“Not at all,” said John. “Pretty much everyone will be out of here in about twenty minutes or so.”  
Francie smiled as she brought the phone to her ear and said “Five is fine, love. See you soon,” before hanging up.  
Cath smirked. “Best say Bye to your other boyfriend before you leave.”

********************

The trio were now standing just inside the front door of the building, John having already confirmed with the security room that his two guests were about to leave.

Cath gave John a brief but enthusiastic hug. “Thank you for inviting us today. It’s just a shame we won’t get to see you all do your thing on Saturday. If I’d thought about it I’d have recorded some on my phone but it didn’t occur to me until near the end, and by then I was having too much fun to just stand there with my phone out.”  
“Same,” said Francie.  
“Well, they did record it for us to take a look at,” said John. “I could make you a copy if you want.”  
“Oh, yes, please. We can show bits of it while we’re Skyping with Petra on Saturday.”  
He thought for a moment. “I can’t imagine she’d be interested in watching anything I’m in.”  
“Don’t be so sure. She has forgiven you, you know.”  
John looked surprised. “Really? I didn’t know that.”  
“Not that she’s ever likely to tell you, mind. Too stubborn. That’s the German blood in her, you see.”  
John was only too aware of that stubborn streak shared by all three sisters. Plus someone else as well.

Francie then treated John to a hug that was as long and as gentle as the first. But this time she didn’t immediately step back. This time she took a half-step to her right and turned to face Cath while running her right hand slowly up his back and on to his right shoulder. Her gaze switched from Cath to John and back to Cath. “You still don’t see it, do you?”  
“See what?”

Francie made a quarter-turn towards John, pressed gently against him before bringing her left hand up to John’s chin and gently turned his face towards her.  
“Look.” She began to trace her fingertips around his face.  
“Cheekbone.  
In front of the ear.  
Jawline.  
Neck.  
Plus what I can feel in his shoulder.”  
Cath looked confused. “Feel what?”  
Francie confirmed that no one else was in earshot. “You’ve lost weight.”  
John nodded. “Some.”  
“On purpose?”  
“Yep. Long, long way to go, though.”  
Francie nodded. “Thought so. It took some looking before I could tell. At first I thought it was the haircut, which really suits you, by the way. But no - standing right here, I can definitely see it.”

Cath took a step towards John and studied his face. Then her expression changed.  
“Oh, John. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed. Why didn’t you say anything?”  
He shrugged. “Well, I’ve not really seen the difference myself until recently. And I didn’t want to make any noise about it, in case it came to nothing. Again. You know...”

Francie had moved towards the door as Cath moved closer to John, giving them a moment of privacy. But she soon spotted a familiar car approaching. “David’s here. Thanks again for the invite, John. Good luck for next Saturday, yeah?”  
“Thanks, Francie. I’m glad you had a good time. See you around.”

The sisters stepped outside and headed towards the now-stationary car.  
“Francie...”  
“Yes?”  
“Did you really have to rub up against him like you just did?”  
Francie grinned. “No. But it was the easiest way to get him to stand still, wasn’t it? “Rabbit in the headlights” and all that. Well, I say headlights...”

John stayed at the door just long enough to watch the sisters get into the green Focus before he turned and headed towards the lifts, checking his phone as he did so.

Still nothing.

********************

Francie undid her seatbelt and twisted to look at Cath as they waited for David to come back from inside the supermarket.  
Cath was shaking her head. “I still don’t understand why I didn’t see it.”  
“Because you see him so often. Not every day, but a lot. Whereas I’d not seen him for nearly two months, I think. But also, you see him as John, you don’t look at him as just another guy.”  
“Right...”  
“Forget that for now. Look. He’s slimming down. Which happens when he’s really sick, or when he’s really serious about something. Or someone. And we know he’s not sick, so...”  
“So?”  
“So if he’s not mentioned it or made it obvious what he’s doing, then maybe he’s not doing it for you. Not because of you, I mean.”

Cath rolled her eyes. “I’ve already told you - Kitson’s a flake. Just this week she listened to some of Manchester’s finest minds gossiping about John, immediately over-reacted and was basically responsible for everyone in the Area getting a talking-to about gossip and what-not in the workplace.”  
“What gossip?”  
“That he was supposedly putting it to one of the assistant managers.”  
“Could he have?”  
“What? Plugged Helen, you mean?”  
Francie made a face. “Did you just say “plugged”?”  
“Doesn’t matter what word I used - nothing’s happened there. She’s as gay as you are tall.”  
“She’s what?”  
“Practically engaged to her girlfriend. Nothing was going to happen.”  
“Well, if you’re sure...”  
“I’m sure. And I’ve said this before - it’s just a matter of time before John gets sick of her shit.”  
“And I still think you could be waiting a long time for that to happen.”  
“It won’t be forever. And it’s John, right? It’ll be worth it.”

********************

Seven-thirty pm, John’s front room

John’s eyes ran over the display as his phone rang. He noted the number, made to pick up the phone but turned his attention back to the spreadsheet on his laptop instead.

********************

Seven-forty pm, John’s front room

John’s eyes ran over the display as his phone rang. He noted the number, counted to ten then brought the phone to his ear. “Evening.”  
“Hiya. Where were you a few minutes ago when I called?”  
“Bathroom.”  
“Okay...”  
John fought the urge to respond. Simply waited.  
“So how was practice?” asked Kayleigh.  
“Good. A few things to work on.”  
“Like?”  
“Technical stuff, mainly.”  
Kayleigh’s voice now had an edge. “Any particular reason you’re not saying much tonight?”  
“Maybe I’m still waiting for that apology.”  
“You might be waiting for a while,” Kayleigh huffed.  
When John breathed out it was deliberately loud and long. “Then why call me at all?”

Kayleigh sighed. “I’m sorry, John.”  
“Thank you.”  
“It’s just...”  
“Just what?”  
“I still think Cath’s taking advantage of you. Of your... friendship.”  
“No she isn’t.”  
“But she just dropped it on you.”  
“Asking me to look after Muffin in about two months’ time isn’t dropping anything on me.”  
“But...”  
“But what? I’m always happy to look after Muffin. And you know I’ll be busy with the project until the first store opens in May, so house-sitting for two weeks in April isn’t at the expense of my going on holiday or whatever. Plus Cath’s is closer to work which is great.”  
“How?”  
“You know how. It’s less travelling time so I won’t have to get up so early. Just like over Christmas. Better, actually, since I’m not at the store any more so I’ll be able to stay in bed until eight o’clock most mornings.” He silently counted to five. “I mean - does the idea of lying in bed until eight o’clock on a Monday morning not appeal to you at all?”  
“Wait. Are you saying I could stay over again?”  
“Of course. If you want. I’m hoping you will, and more often than you did over Christmas.”

A thought occurred to him. “Hey - do you remember telling me about how you’re wanting to paint your room?”  
“Yes?”  
“You could do that in April. The weather’ll be better for painting, so we could paint your room and have you stay with me at Cath’s for a week while the paint dries. Then we put on another coat and you stay for another week.”  
“Seriously?”  
“Seriously. Think of it: a lie-in every morning for two whole weeks. Hardly any time spent stuck in traffic. We could go out for dinner or a movie or whatever on any night we want and not have to worry too much about when we get in because we wouldn’t be having any early starts.” He thought for a moment. “Well, I might have to start around eight o’clock once or twice in that fortnight. But, still...”

There was a pause, and when Kayleigh spoke again her voice sounded slightly different, as if she was speaking through a smile. “I love the sound of all that but you see the problem, don’t you?”  
“Problem?”  
“It’s two months away.”  
“It is.”  
“I don’t want to wait two months before I stay over with you again.”  
“I don’t want that either.”  
“So when, then?”  
“Well - I’ve a long day tomorrow, with practice Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday nights.”  
“So, Thursday and Friday nights, then?”  
“That sounds great.”  
“And Saturday, after your gig?”  
“Ah. See, the gig will finish sometime around eleven, but after we’ve packed up all the gear and got it back to the studio, it’ll be something like one in the morning before I get home. Bit of a dull end to your night if you’re having to wait around for hours while we sort all our stuff out.”  
“Right. Right. Well, I think I’ll head back with Mandy and Steve. And then I could meet you at the studio on Sunday afternoon for the last family and friends lunch you talked about.”  
“Yeah. Okay. I think that’ll work. Yeah. Good thinking.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence before John spoke again.  
“Hey, um, I’m gonna need an earlier start tomorrow to avoid the roadworks on the A56 and I’ve not got my lunch or anything sorted yet, so...”  
“That’s okay. Go do what needs doing.”  
“Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”  
“All right. Good night, handsome.”  
“Good night, beautiful.”

John ended the call, noted the state of the battery and plugged the iPhone into the charger. He shook his head at the way it was seemingly no longer capable of holding a charge anywhere as long as it used to, muttering “Another cost I don’t need...”

His gaze then returned to the pair of battered walking shoes sitting in the corner, still wet and dirty from his earlier walk that had been cut short by a downpour.  
He briefly scowled at the “bastard shoes” that hurt his feet then turned his attention back to the laptop, to the on-line catalogue of fitness equipment currently showing a long list of consumer treadmills. His initial enthusiasm waned as he began to work through the list when it became apparent that the cheaper options were all either out of stock or not rated to support his weight.

It took a few moments to navigate the poorly-designed setup before he found the filtering options, and once he’d selected “In Stock” and set an appropriate “User Weight” the list was reduced to just four units - but when he noted the prices his heart sank.  
Twice he moved the mouse pointer over the “Buy Now” button; twice he chided himself with “You can’t afford it. You can’t afford it.” before killing the browser completely to remove the temptation.  
But that left him looking at the spreadsheet, looking squarely at the state of his finances. Left him feeling a bit sick.

As solace he ate one of the two plain biscuits he would allow himself each day and brought up his Ebay account, noting with approval that the bids on his old guitar had finally hit a point where they weren’t insultingly-low.  
And remembered what Paul had said to him when John had opened up about his money-worries:  
“Don’t think of it as being desperate. Think of it as profiting while you free up space in that spare room. Trust me on this - it might not seem like it right now, but it’ll be worth it.”


End file.
